Bare is the Floor
by akisura12
Summary: All locks, even the ones at 221B, are not invincible. Based on a prompt asking for the flat to be broken into. Oneshot, not slash.


Title: Bare is the Floor

Author: Akisura12

Summary: All locks, even the ones at 221B, are not invincible. Based on a prompt asking for the flat to be broken into. Oneshot, not slash.

Disclaimer: Sherlock, the television series in which I am writing from, is in no way mine or affiliated with me. Sherlock is property of the BBC, and Sherlock Holmes is the creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I make no money by writing the piece, it is solely for enjoyment.

Warnings: Rated A; none.

Notes: Prompted by Sayseydo. Can be read as pre-slash for friendship; pre-Reichenbach Please enjoy!

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><p>It is always jarring for John to come home and see the flat in ruins. Of course, he knows that it is probably just the result of another one of Sherlock "<em>experiments<em>," as he labels anything he doesn't want John to touch.

"Leave the eyes in the microwave for just another week John. I know they smell but it's for an experiment."

"John, be quiet, I need complete silence for this experiment."

"I need you to touch me in the dark for this experiment John."

John never asks, or bothers to try and figure out _why_ he lets Sherlock always get away with his little quirks. He usually complies when Sherlock asks him to help, too.

Sometimes he gets annoyed with Sherlock. One, just once, he would like Sherlock to be in his position. To come home and see that John has ruined all organization the flat once possessed, especially his bedroom, because that seems to be the one place Sherlock actually bothers to keep clean.

But this is Sherlock, and he'd probably just ignore it all like it had never happened. Perhaps he would notice that the things in his bedroom were moved around, a week later when he actually decided it was time to sleep again.

He never thinks that this will actually happen.

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><p>John knows Mrs. Hudson cleans their flat often, despite her constant protests that she is definitely <em>not<em> their housekeeper, and for that he is eternally grateful. So the day that he and Sherlock come home from a quick trip for a case in Scotland, he knows something's wrong when they come home to find their flat so messy. It is thrown in to disarray, more like.

Things are knocked over, and John feels like many things are simply _gone_. There is no television on the wall, no test tubes scattered about the kitchen table. The skull is one the ground, instead of on the mantle piece where it usually is.

John looks at Sherlock. He is surprised to find that Sherlock looks… _angry_.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He bellows.

"Sherlock, hush," John shushes him quickly. "She's probably out; she would have met us at the door if she wasn't."

Sherlock ignores him. He paces around the floor, eyes wide with something akin to panic – but this is Sherlock, and Sherlock doesn't panic – looking at everything and touching nothing.

John look around. "Where's the telly?"

"We've been robbed," Sherlock says, his tone irate. "They took it, obviously."

John doesn't panic. Anything that really would've counted as valuable – his phone, his wallet – they were all with him while they went to Scotland. Well, not his laptop, but he was thinking of buying a new one anyway. There are a few boxes in his room, photo albums and such, but no robber would ever take those, so he believes he is fine.

But Sherlock – Well, nearly everything in this flat was Sherlock's. The beakers, the chemicals, the scales; all of them could be sold for a hefty price, and surely, they have all been taken.

They are gone. He and Sherlock poke through the cupboards, searching for the glasses, the cultured bacteria samples, Sherlock's microscope. None of them are in their usual places on the table or under the table or next to the table. They are simply gone.

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><p>Lestrade comes with Sally, and they poke around for a bit. Mark – a forensic scientist Sherlock dislikes slightly less than Anderson – takes a few samples to test. Lestrade makes lists and notes on a pad of paper or what's been stolen. There's not really much to be done though, because it's not as if it's a major crime. It is simply theft.<p>

John knows Sherlock doesn't have insurance for these kinds of things. Or, if he does, then Mycroft is paying for it and he might refuse to use it. He gets a text from Mycroft later, saying CALL 453-6925.

He does. It is an insurance policy, one so classy that John would never even dream of being able to afford for himself. Sherlock tells him not to waste the effort. John does anyway; if Sherlock doesn't use the money for its intended purposes than he will.

Sherlock is irritable, and he refuses to sleep the night they come home. He didn't sleep on the trip back home or in the hotel either. John's pretty sure he hasn't even had a few minutes of shut eye in at least the last seventy hours. He _will_ crash, sooner or later.

John sees Sherlock trying to deduce anything and everything he can about this. Sherlock is frustrated at the lack of planing or motive to this crime. It is not as if there isn't evidence everywhere; Sherlock can see the culprit is male, 5'9", has brown hair. But then, many people who commit crimes like theft are, and many of them have never committed anything significant enough to get their prints into the records. This is not like murder; there is no life-threatening urgency to find the suspect before they target someone else. That is what aggravates Sherlock. There is not enough thinking involved with this crime for Sherlock to be able to think about it himself.

Fancy that, Sherlock Holmes not being able to solve a case because it is too _easy_.

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><p>John doesn't worry about the few things of his that were stolen – his laptop, his pocket watch that Sally got him for the yard's Secret Santa last Christmas. He takes the money the insurance company offers them and buys new laptops for himself and Sherlock.<p>

He also buys back some of Sherlock's science equipment: a few chemicals, a set of one hundred assorted beakers, flasks, and other measuring tools that were on sale together, and thirty agar plates. He also buys Sherlock a band-new, top of the line microscope, under the advice of Mark. Sherlock doesn't thank him, but then John didn't expect that he would.

With the leftover money, John buys Mrs. Hudson a new scarf and a necklace, because God knows the woman deserves something. She is distraught when she comes home to hear what happened, ashamed and embarrassed and apologetic that she let this happen while they were away. John assures her that this was not her fault, and it wasn't as if she hadn't locked the doors, the burglar had simply picked them. Sherlock even reassures her a bit, briefly. She calms down a little but still feels guilty. John understands that she will continue to, even if she does know she is not to blame.

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><p>Things go back to normal, and Mrs. Hudson and John clean the flat up. It looks almost like it did before, perhaps a little less cluttered. John eventually buys a new television set, one that is slightly cheaper and smaller than before but just as good. It's not as if they watch it all that much anyway.<p>

Sherlock goes back to normal too, mostly.

When John presents him with his new laptop, he pouts. "I don't need that," he scowls.

"You do, and you will take it," John says firmly. Then, after a moment's pause, "Sherlock, it's alright sometimes, you know. To not be able to figure something out."

"I know that," Sherlock snaps, and John pretends not to hear the touch of relief in his voice.

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><p>Note: Sorry if it's a bit dry; Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Un-beta'd and un-britpicked, so constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.<p> 


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